


Bursting at the Seams

by raven_bird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Exploration of Magic, F/F, Fluff, Hair Dyeing, Metamorphmagus, Missions, Missions Gone Wrong, Veela, loss of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_bird/pseuds/raven_bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonks didn’t speak much French, but she knew that the string of words that Fleur spat out was colourful, to say the least.</p>
<p>Or: Missions go wrong. Girls pine over each other and don't communicate as much as they maybe should. And, against all things, they find a happy ending.</p>
<p>
  <a href="http://hpfemslashbigbang.tumblr.com/">
    <b>Written for HP Femslash Big Bang 2016</b>
  </a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bursting at the Seams

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [invydia](https://invydia.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for being a super patient beta and just fantastic in general!
> 
> And also thanks to krylla_bee (cauldrcncake on tumblr!) for being the sweetest and looking over this, too!! <3
> 
> Title is from a Death Cab for Cutie song - A Lack of Colour. (The lyrics in general don't fit, but I find that particular segment and the title of the song do relate to the fic - as you'll soon see).

Veelas, Tonks had decided, were dangerous beings.

 

Well. One veela in particular – Tonks had never met any others. Being around Fleur was enough to tell her, though, that she shouldn’t be seeking out any more of them. She was clumsy enough on her own, let alone when she was in the presence of that kind of otherworldly allure. When Fleur was around, it was all Tonks could do to force herself to stay glued to her seat and try not to literally fall over herself in an attempt to capture Fleur’s attention.

 

The thing was, she doubted Fleur would even notice if she did. She had seemed to dismiss Tonks within a moment of meeting her, apart from a delicately raised eyebrow at the sight of Tonk’s hair changing colour rapidly. Then someone else had captured her attention, and Fleur looked away before Tonks could do anything stupid like try and explain what being a Metamorphmagus meant. That, she knew, would have only resulted in Tonks tangling up her words and being left with a sizable amount of embarrassment.

 

Besides, if she had been the focus of Fleur’s attention for much longer, Tonks was very sure that she would have spontaneously combusted right on the spot.

 

It had only gotten worse from there. Fleur, who had decided to join the Order of the Phoenix the moment she had completed her education, was inescapable. She was at every meeting, every discussion.

 

This, as might be expected, made organization and planning somewhat of a problem. A select few seemed to be immune to her charms – a handful of the other women involved in the organization, Dumbledore, Sirius Black – but the rest of them were constantly being distracted by the part-veela sitting in their midst.

 

In Fleur’s defence, her heart was in the right place. She seemed genuinely prepared to throw herself into the organization, to fight back against Voldemort’s growing power and help the Order in whatever way she could. It wasn’t her fault that every time she spoke, everyone in the room simultaneously fell silent and turned towards her. In fact, Fleur seemed to be consciously putting a damper on herself – she didn’t speak unless it was necessary and she never was anything but professional.

 

Still, it was a problem that the entirety of the Order was struggling to deal with. Meetings took nearly twice as long as they did regularly, and those who remained unaffected were constantly becoming more frustrated at the lack of action they were taking.

 

Finally, Mad-Eye Moody had pulled Tonks aside, his magical eye wildly scanning the area to ensure they were alone. “I need you to take care of Fleur.”

 

Tonks swallowed. “I’m sorry?”

 

“We can’t have her at meetings anymore,” Moody said gruffly, scratching his jaw. “We’ll partner you two up, send you off on a mission to distract her. We think that there’s a small Death Eater meeting point not too far from here, you could probably scope that out.”

 

Tonks opened her mouth, trying to find the words to tell him that this was not a good idea. Leaving her alone with Fleur was likely to end in disaster, what with Tonk’s inability to control herself around her, but Moody simply raised a hand to stop her. She clammed up, feeling slightly indignant, and waited for him to speak. 

 

“It’s nothing dangerous,” he told her. At least his tone was apologetic. “It’s just so that the rest of us can manage to get an actual plan together without having her as a distraction. Even if you somehow make a mistake – and you won’t, Tonks, you’ve been training for missions tougher than this one for years – it shouldn’t be too big of a problem.”

 

“And what if I’d rather be doing a tougher mission? Something important?”

 

Moody tapped his cane on the ground. “You will, soon enough. But for now, this is the best way you can help us. Tonks, the Order needs you to do this.”

 

They looked at each other. His magical eye, for once, stayed still and bored into her imperiously. She met his gaze, knowing that her mouth was pressed into a firm, unhappy line and she probably wasn’t the picture of joy. Even so, there was just no saying no to Moody. After a moment, she found herself agreeing to the plan, and was rewarded with Moody’s face twisting up into a rare grin, his hand clasping her shoulder in a wordless thank-you.

 

A couple minutes later, she had been given all the information that they needed. She left Moody in the hallway, not sure exactly what she was feeling. She’d much rather be assigned a mission worth completing, and the thought of pairing up with a girl just out of school was frankly insulting. Just beneath that, though, there was a part of her that was more than pleased with the arrangement. _Just Fleur and her._

 

Fleur, when Tonks had explained the situation to her, gave her a once over and shrugged. Tonks was happy to accept this: it was more approval than she had ever received from Fleur before. She bounced on the balls of her feet and grinned at the Fleur, extending a hand to punch Fleur lightly on the shoulder.

 

“All right, then, partner! I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

Fleur made a noise of agreement. Her eyes were boring into Tonks, indecipherable, and Tonks suddenly remembered why having her attention wasn’t such a good thing. It only made her heart beat faster inside her chest. “It will be more interesting than these meetings we’ve been having, I would think.”

 

Tonks wanted to tell her that, ordinarily, the Order’s meetings were a whirlpool of motion and enthusiasm, everyone tossing up ideas and arranging plans without stop. She wanted to tell Fleur that the Order was more than what it became when Fleur was around.

 

All that came out, though, was a small “Sure.”

 

Fleur nodded to her in lieu of an actual goodbye, and Tonks was left to sort out the confused mixture of emotions that swirled around her in Fleur’s wake.

 

*

 

Moody had been right. The location that they’d been assigned was nothing much. Tonks stood next to Fleur on the deserted field, staring at the only building in sight. It was in shambles, the wood boarding rotting away and weeds creeping up the side.

 

Fleur snorted. “Well, this shouldn’t be very difficult.”

 

Tonks tended to agree with her. She wouldn’t be surprised if they had finished here and returned to the Order long before the rest of them had a chance to even begin discussing anything of importance. With a sigh, she pulled her wand out of her pocket and gestured for Fleur to do the same.

 

Tonks did a cursory check for any wards surrounding the building, but the spell revealed nothing. Fleur exchanged a look with her and mounted the steps, pushing open the door. It opened without any resistance.

 

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

 

“I’m sure,” replied Tonks, but she was nearly beginning to doubt it herself. It didn’t seem likely that any Death Eater would deign to use such a place for a meeting point.

 

Nothing changed when they stepped over the threshold of the house. The floorboards were dusty beneath their feet and the entire hall looked as though it had been deserted for at least twenty years. Fleur glanced behind each doorway as they passed, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

 

It wasn’t until they had climbed to the second floor that Tonk’s skin began to crawl. Something was different here. She scanned the area for wards once more and this time was detected nearly a dozen. Exchanging a look with Fleur, she crept closer to the nearest door.

 

Fleur tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she scanned the floor. The action looked delicate on her, somehow still elegant even surrounded by the outdated décor and peeling wallpaper. Tonks found herself unable to look away from Fleur, who was apparently unaware of the effect she had on her.

 

Maybe, if she hadn’t been distracted, Tonks would have anticipated the loose floorboard. The toe of her shoe caught against the edge of the wooden board and before she knew exactly what had happened, she had been send sprawling forward. Unthinkingly, she threw out her arms to try and catch herself against the door as she fell.

 

This was a mistake.

 

Tonks knew this. Years of Auror training had taught her to never touch anything in an unfamiliar place if it could be avoided. A curse or trap could be disguised in anything, no matter how unremarkable they might seem at first glance. Still, there was no time to think about things like that when she was tumbling forward. The only thought in her head told her to break the fall.

 

The door glowed hot under her palm as her skin brushed the surface, and she snatched her hand back. Stumbling to her feet, she watched with horror as the door swung open with a force unlike anything she had seen before. Something was pulling everything inside the room. The dust on the floor was sucked back into the gaping hole, and the doorframe seemed to disintegrate and crumble into pieces as it fell.

 

Tonks didn’t speak much French, but she knew that the string of words that Fleur spat out was colourful, to say the least.

 

“Get back,” Fleur hissed in English, and Tonks didn’t even bother to feel resentful at being ordered around by the younger girl.

 

She hurried to put as much distance possible between herself and the door she had inadvertently opened, but it was useless. With every passing moment, the vortex was growing more and more powerful, sucking in the dry air of the hallway. Even as Tonks raised her wand to try and counter the curse, her hopes were shrivelling up inside her chest.

 

That didn’t stop her from trying. Spell after spell, she attempted to freeze the swirling mass of air and debris, to slow it, to reverse it, to stop it _somehow_. Beside her, Fleur was doing the same, muttering incantations under her breath and flicking her wand masterfully.

 

Despite their best efforts, the swirling winds only continued to grow more and more powerful. It wasn’t long before a burst of wind swung close enough to Fleur to knock the breath out of her lungs, and Fleur collapsed on herself, wheezing for breath.

 

Tonks barely had time to shout before her partner was being sucked into the doorway, her feet dragging on the floor as she was pulled in by the heaving winds. She caught Tonk’s eye the moment before she disappeared before what remained of the wall, something furious and wild in the expression.

 

Tonks weighed her options, not tearing her eyes away from the nearing whirlwind of movement. She knew that there was no possible way that she would find the spell to reverse what she had set off, not in the time she had. But she could still dive in after Fleur.

 

Sucking in her breath, she stepped forward and allowed the wind to sweep her off her feet. It tore through her hair and hooked into her bones, tugging her forward and tossing her through the area where the door had originally stood.

 

Silence.

 

The air had stilled around her, leaving nothing but an echo in the air. Tonks blinked, taking in a dull light and plain white walls surrounding her. It was both doorless and windowless, and the smooth surfaces of every side made her feel boxed in. Shuddering, she turned to the left and caught sight of Fleur, eyeing her unhappily.

 

“You got hit as well?”

 

“Yup,” Tonks lied. She didn’t know what Fleur would say if she told her that she had stepped into the vortex intentionally. It wasn’t that she wanted to save Fleur – really, she knew that Fleur was more than capable of holding her own. It was more the fact that she couldn’t bear to see her torn away and be unable to do anything about it.

 

At least, here, they were together.

 

Fleur exhaled. “That is… unfortunate. At least you could have gone for help if you had stayed out of this.”

 

Tonks hadn’t thought of that. Still, she doubted she would have done anything differently. Instead, she resigned herself to having to figure it out from this odd little room. She nodded to Fleur’s wand, still lifted in her hand. “Have you tried to find a way out through magic?”

 

“Of course.” Fleur crossed her arms, as though irritated that Tonks had asked such a basic question, but her eyes betrayed her. She was worried.

 

“What is it?”

 

“There’s…” Fleur shook her head, long blonde hair swaying behind her. “It feels odd. I can’t get my magic to work.”

 

Tonk’s heart sank. She raised her wand hand and experimentally tried a couple basic spells, but nothing happened. Her wand felt like little more than a stick in her hand, a children’s plaything.

 

“You see?” Fleur said, not entirely unkindly. She walked to the nearest wall, carefully touching her fingertips to the surface as though she was looking for a mark to explain why they were here.

 

Her touch seemed to trigger something else. Dust kicked up at their feet. At first, Tonks was sure that this would be similar to the first event. She raised her wand yet again, hoping that her magic would come back in time to stall this before it developed into something untameable.

 

Her magic didn’t come back, but the powerful wind didn’t return, either. The dust did little more than flit across the floor, arranging itself into spindly letters on the floor. Tonks crept forward enough to squint at the letters, barely legible against the pale floor.

 

“ _Defenders of muggles_ ,” she read, and as she spoke another gust of light wind smoothed across the floor and arranged the letters into the next phrase. “ _Should live like muggles_. What could that _possibly_ m-”

 

Tonks was interrupted by a small noise from Fleur. When she looked up, Fleur was staring at Tonk’s hair. Self-consciously, she reached up to touch the strands. She pulled a couple of the longer locks down towards her face and instantly knew what Fleur had noticed.

 

Her hair had lost the bright orange hue she had adopted this morning, and had faded back to the limp brown that Tonks had always hated. Beginning to understand, Tonks looked down at her arm. She usually disguised it using her abilities, but as a child she had burnt herself on a kitchen stove. When she looked at the area that had been hurt, the scars were still there – deep red and standing out against the brown of her skin.

 

She swallowed, understanding. “It takes away our magical abilities?”

 

Fleur met her gaze. “As far as I can tell - yes. It takes away our magic abilities.”

 

Tonks rocked back on her heels and finally sank down to the ground, trying to come to terms with this new development. A thousand questions were on the tip of her tongue: how long could this last? Would it be permanent?

 

Her entire life was in the wizarding world. Her job, her friends – hell, even her education would be worthless in the muggle world. Sure, she would be better off than some, having grown up with a muggle-born father and knowing how the muggle world worked, but the thought of having to make that change was sickening.

 

Fleur didn’t move to sit on the floor with Tonks, but it looked as though she was struggling with the same set of emotions. She kept looking at her wand beseechingly, as though she expected it to gain its power back at any moment. Tonks’ heart ached for her.

 

There was something else, too. Tonks couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but when she stared at Fleur it felt different, somehow. It didn’t make any sense – Fleur looked the same as ever, gorgeous and graceful. The feeling was inescapable, though. It was like stepping into a room full of sweeping architecture and elaborate details and noticing cobwebs crowded in the corner, sparkling in the sunlight.

 

Fleur must have felt Tonk’s eyes on her. She tore her eyes away from her wand and rubbed at her cheek, frowning. “What is it?”

 

“Nothing,” Tonks answered, finally. Fleur looked as though she was going to press for an explanation but Tonks shook her off, closing her eyes and leaning back into her hands. It was going to be a long evening.

 

*

 

Tonks didn’t know how long it took for the rest of the Order to arrive. It could have been hours or a day – there was nothing to indicate the passage of time within the room. All she knew was that she had never been so happy to hear Moody’s voice in her life.

 

“What did I tell you about sleeping on the job?”

 

Tonks cracked open an eyelid. She couldn’t see her mentor anywhere, but she saluted anyways, on the off-chance that he could see her. “Constant vigilance. I know.”

 

“Sure doesn’t look like you know,” he grumbled, and Tonks looked around at Fleur, who seemed to be just as clueless about where the disembodied voice was coming from. “Get up. We’re going back, and you two are going to review how to detect cursed wards.”

 

“It wasn’t as though we could detect anything, even if we wanted to,” Tonks said, as she obligingly rose to her feet. “Our magic is gone.”

 

There was a pause. When Moody’s voice returned, it was tight and subdued. “We’ll figure that out as soon as we get you two out of there.”

 

“And how exactly do you plan to get us out of here?” Fleur asked, mildly impatient. She was chewing on her lip, scanning the room for any change. As far as Tonks could tell, nothing had changed in the time that had elapsed since they had first gotten trapped.

 

“Hold tight. We’re going to create an explosion and hope that it manages to disrupt some of the spell work. A ward this complex needs to have all kinds of different strands and layers – if we manage to compromise any one of those layers, the whole thing could come tumbling down.”

 

Fleur stepped back from the walls, looking wary. “And you know this will work?”

 

Tonks snorted. “He’s about to find out.”

 

They waited, straining their ears for any sign of motion or noise, but there was nothing. A minute passed, and then two, and Tonks began to wonder whether Moody had fallen prey to one of the other wards that protected the house. It was unlikely, but not impossible. Tonks and Fleur had gotten caught, hadn’t they?

 

She was just preparing to voice her thoughts when a resounding bang echoed throughout the room. Instinctively, Tonks reached to pull Fleur away from the crash, her hand catching Fleur’s elbow and her other arm wrapping around her.

 

To her surprise, Fleur didn’t shake her off immediately. She looked at Tonks, something warring in her expression, but didn’t think to step out of her embrace until the rest of the Order came flooding in, fussing about the two women and ushering them out of the house.

 

The moment they had all apparated back to Grimmauld Place, Fleur and Tonks found themselves bombarded with questions. It soon became clear that their magic had not returned once they had escaped the room, and that realization set another wave of panic over Tonks. They told the others exactly what had happened, Tonks feeling more and more disgusted by how much her Auror training had failed her with every passing minute.

 

This was enough to distract her from something that she might have realized otherwise: nobody was staring at Fleur.

 

For once, the group managed to carry out a conversation without once being derailed because someone had been distracted by Fleur. As soon as Tonks realized this, she turned to Fleur, who was wearing a bemused expression as the discussion flowed around them. The rest of the Order was in the middle of discussing why the location had been so well-protected, if it had only been a meeting point, but Tonks only had eyes for Fleur.

 

She shuffled nearer to Fleur, picking at a piece of lint on her jeans and saying, in an undertone, “You noticed?”

 

“I…” Fleur broke off, surveying the room. Remus Lupin was the only one to meet her gaze, but he only smiled and looked away. “What is wrong? Why-?”

 

Tonks thought of her Metamorphmagus abilities, how they’d vanished in the room along with her magic. Could it be possible that Fleur’s veela abilities were the same?

 

But then her breath caught in her throat. If Fleur no longer had her veela powers, how was it that Tonks felt no different than before? She looked at Fleur and still wanted to fit her hands against her waist, to mouth at her skin and kiss the pout off of her lips, to have her in every sense of the word. It had been so easy to dismiss when Tonks could blame her feelings on the veela effects, but now they were gone and Tonks was still a mess of tangled emotions and desperate longing.

 

It wasn’t even just physical attraction, though. That might have been manageable, but when she looked at Fleur, all she could see were the endless days of possibility stretching out before her. She imagined how Fleur would look when she woke up in early morning sunlight, and the way that Tonks might squeeze her hand as they walked down streets together. She saw Fleur swearing in French, and she saw wordless expressions of love, and she saw shared umbrellas and laughing eyes and something that the both of them might one day build together.

 

Tonks forced herself to stop this train of thoughts before her feelings started to show on her face. Instead, she bit her lip and explained to Fleur what she suspected had happened to Fleur’s veela powers. To her credit, Fleur didn’t so much as frown. She took in what Tonks told her stoically, still looking around the room. It was impossible to deny: nobody was paying her nearly the amount of attention that they had before.

 

“Is this how it feels for you?” Fleur asked finally, sounding slightly unsettled. “Not having people stare at you?”

 

Tonks bristled, not entirely sure whether she should take that as an insult or not. “Plenty of people stare at me, thank you very much.”

 

“Yes, but you… invite it. Your hair, your clothes, they stand out. But…” she gestured to Tonk’s appearance, her natural hair colour and a lack of any of the tattoos that came and went according to her mood. “You know how it feels to look like anyone else. You can blend in to a crowd.”

 

Tonks hummed, not sure how she felt about this conversation. “I guess.” She caught sight of herself reflected in a darkened window, examined her appearance. She didn’t typically change too much about how she looked, preferring to keep the dark-toned skin that she had been born with and the shape of her face, but it was still jarring to see herself in a completely natural state. “I don’t like it, though, my hair…”

 

Fleur reached out to twist a lock of Tonk’s hair around her finger, looking thoughtful. Her fingertips brushed the surface of Tonk’s neck, and Tonks swallowed hard.

 

“You could change it still, yes?” Fleur asked. “Like muggles do?”

 

Tonk’s heart leaped and she turned back to her reflection. She hadn’t thought of that. Raking a hand through her own hair, she cocked her head thoughtfully and tried to imagine herself with dyed hair. It wouldn’t be quite the same – she wouldn’t be able to change the colour quick enough to suit her moods – but anything would be better than this.

 

“Yeah,” she said, breathlessly, some of her spirit returning to her. She hadn’t realized how much this change had affected her behavior, but she did know that from the moment she had realized what had happened she had felt more subdued and withdrawn.

 

Fleur almost grinned. “I could help you. I mean… if you would let me.”

 

Tonks met her eyes, trying to burn Fleur’s expression into her memory. “That’d be… nice. If you want.”

 

More than nice, really. The idea that Fleur had even offered to help, that she had wanted to spend more time with Tonks… it was enough to set something in Tonks afire. She hoped it wasn’t showing too embarrassingly on her face.

 

Fleur nodded to the others. “I am sure that we won’t be allowed to go on too many missions, with our magic gone. It’ll be good to take our minds off of things.”

 

Ah. So it was just a way to fix the boredom, a distraction, now that the both of them wouldn’t be busy with meetings and discussing Voldemort’s plan. Tonk’s smile suddenly felt forced and wooden, and she chided herself for letting herself get her hopes up so quickly. Even in the absence of her veela powers, Fleur was still beautiful and powerful and unattainable.

 

Still, there was no way that she was going to turn this down now that Fleur had offered it. She flashed a quick thumbs-up and echoed the sentiment, wondering how on earth she was going to learn to dye her hair the muggle way.

 

*

 

As it turns out, Fleur had been right. Not only did the Order want them to stop taking part in any missions, they wanted the two of them hidden away until their magic returned and they were able to protect themselves. On some level, Tonks understood this – they were liabilities, and if any Death Eaters caught wind of the fact that two Order members were defenceless, they would become immediate targets. On the other hand…

 

“No,” Fleur said, looking between them all. She still hadn’t gotten used to the way that people argued with her, now – they were less likely to yield to her every time she opened her mouth. “No, I can still fight, I want to know what is going on…”

 

“You can’t fight.” Arthur Weasley rubbed his temples, looking at Tonks for help. In any other situation, she would have given it to him, but she was just as upset by the concept of being cut off from what was happening. “You can’t duel, that much is clear, and even if you tried to learn Muggle fighting it wouldn’t stand a chance against Death Eaters. And giving you information is dangerous now, too. The more information you know, the more you will be targeted until they can find out our plans. We’ve contacted Dumbledore –”

 

Fleur groaned and muttered something to herself. Tonks, though she didn’t dislike Dumbledore, was tempted to do the same. If Dumbledore had encouraged this, that sealed their fate. No one would argue against him.

 

“And he agrees.” Arthur continued, as though he didn’t notice their frustration. “Not only that, but he’s encountered enchantments like this before. It should start to wear off within a week. When it does – _and only then_ – you’ll be able to join us again.”

 

And that was that. The Order moved fast – they had already set up a safe house, out in the countryside, protected by a host of enchantments and spells. It all seemed a little excessive to Tonks – unless there were any traitors in the Order, there was no way that Voldemort could know about what had befallen them. Even then, what could he do? Killing them would undoubtedly draw some kind of attention.

 

They were accompanied by a good number of the others, carrying enough supplies and food to last them the week. At Tonk’s request, they had also picked up a package of hair dye from the nearest Muggle store – a vivid purple, which should be able to satisfy her for the week without powers.

 

And then, with a couple sympathetic shoulder-squeezes and well-intentioned words of comfort, the Order disappeared, and Fleur and Tonks were left alone in the old house.

 

*

 

It didn’t take long to unpack the few belongings that they had brought, and Tonks was feeling restless. There was a muggle town not too far away, but they had been advised not to walk to it on the off-chance that someone would recognize them.

 

Somehow, Fleur seemed to notice Tonk’s mood. She stood in the doorway of the room that Tonks had claimed, leaning against the doorway, and held up the package of hair dye.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Tonks grinned, standing up from where she had been sitting on the bed. “Lead the way.”

 

The instructions on the box had seemed easy enough to follow when she had read it through the first time, but it soon became clear that the process was much messier than either of them had anticipated. Tonks had never been so grateful for her abilities. The towel wrapped around her neck was already stained with drops of the purple dye, and Tonks was exhausted with the process of working the dye into each of the sections of her hair.

 

She found herself immensely grateful for Fleur’s help when it came time to dye the hair at the back of her head. Allowing herself to relax, she sighed and felt Fleur’s gloved hands massage the dye through her hair, soft and unfaltering in the motions. It felt strangely intimate, too, and unbidden thoughts of Fleur’s hands pressing against her in other ways rose to her mind. Tonks was suddenly glad that Fleur couldn’t see her blush.

 

“It makes such a mess,” Fleur announced. Tonks could imagine the frown that had undoubtedly fixed itself on the other woman’s face. “I’ve got purple spots all over my pants.”

 

Tonks winced. “We could take a break, if you want? It might wash out if you try now.”

 

“No,” Fleur said, after a moment. “It will be a reminder of all this. And if I really need to, I can get someone to use magic on it later.”

 

Tonks had opened her mouth to remark on the first statement, to say something along the lines of having not pegged Fleur as a sentimental person, but she was distracted by what followed. “Or you could do it yourself. When your magic comes back.” She wanted to turn and look at Fleur, but held back so that she didn’t disrupt the dying process.

 

“If it comes back.” Fleur’s hand was near the nape of Tonk’s neck now, sending shivers down her spine.

 

“You don’t think it will?” Tonks hoped that her voice didn’t sound strained. She stared at the tiled wall in front of her, fingers drumming on her knee.

 

“I think that Dumbledore can’t know all the details.” Fleur said. “Any other leader would have sent us to a Healer, to make sure that they were not missing any details. We should have been properly checked. He expects us to just assume that it will all be fine, just because he’s dealt with a _similar enchantments_ …”

 

Tonk’s mulled this over, not wanting to believe it, but Fleur had a point. Finally, she said weakly, “He couldn’t have sent us to a Healer, they would have asked questions. There could be Death Eaters at St. Mungos, they might have recognized the curse…”

 

“Could be. Might have.” Fleur shrugged. “I’m sure he could have found someone trustworthy, if he had wanted.”

 

Tonks stayed quiet, and then said, “We’ll get our magic back, Fleur. Somehow.”

 

Fleur didn’t reply to that. “Your hair is done being coloured.” Despite their disagreement, her hands felt tender as they brushed through Tonk’s short hair. Tonks could almost imagine her following it up with a kiss to the side of her exposed neck, and repressed a shiver at the thought.

 

The moment passed. Fleur hoisted herself off of the floor and Tonks reached for the package to check what she should do next.

 

As it turned out, she was supposed to leave her hair inside a shower cap for nearly an hour, and then wash her hair out in the shower. That, at least, was a welcome prospect, and when Tonks stepped out of the shower she felt as though she had reclaimed a part of herself. In the foggy mirror, her purple hair stood out vividly against her surroundings – a shade or two lighter than what she usually went for, but encouraging all the same. She changed into a fresh set of clothes and left the bathroom in search of Fleur.

 

The other woman was in the kitchen, examining the stove with her face scrunched up in a way that Tonks could only describe as adorable. At the sound of footsteps, she looked up and her expression smoothed out at the sight of Tonks.

 

“The colour suits you.”

 

Tonks startled at the unexpected compliment, willing herself not to flush too obviously. Even with her dark complexion, it was difficult to conceal a blush. “Thanks.” She nodded to the kitchen, a mild smirk forming. “Having troubles?”

 

Fleur made an angry noise at the back of her throat, looking as though she was unwilling to reveal how little she knew about Muggle technology. “Yes. This isn’t like our tools, it is too… _confusing_.”

 

Tonks nudged past her, their arms brushing. “Fear not, I’ve had more than enough experience with this. What would you like to eat?”

 

Fleur, for once, backed down. She was watching Tonks with an unreadable expression, something hiding just out of sight. “I think we were supposed to make pasta.”

 

“That should be easy enough,” Tonks said, trying not to think about how endearing it was that Fleur had gotten so bewildered in the process of making pasta. She reached for a pot and filled it with water, moving it over to the stovetop and flicking the burner on with ease.

 

After she recruited Fleur to help her put together a salad and heat up some sauce, the process went quick enough. They chatted idly as they worked, and Tonks had never quite realized how amusing Fleur could really be. She seemed much more approachable like this, with stains still splattered down the front of her pants and the way she shifted from foot to foot as she worked, as though she couldn’t bear to be still for too long. She also kept shooting wary looks at the flames that licked at the bottom of the pot of pasta, which Tonks pretended not to notice.

 

Eventually, their conversation turned to other things, things that Tonks had been meaning to ask but had always stopped short of. They spooned out food as they talked and sat down at the table, across from each other.

 

“How do you bear it?” she said, after a long stretch of silence. “People always underestimate you. They think you’re nothing but a pretty face - I saw those articles, back in the Daily Prophet when you were in that tournament at Hogwarts. There was never much of a mention of you, but you were just as talented as any of the others.”

 

Fleur lifted a shoulder impassively, forking a bite of her food. “I’m used to it. It just means that they don’t have the advantage of knowing what I am capable of.”

 

This was true. Fleur had come as a shock to most of the order, who had expected an entitled girl who was accustomed to getting whatever she wanted as soon as she asked for it. While this wasn’t entirely false, they had soon enough realized that there was more to it. Fleur was terrifying when she wanted to be. Tonks had never met anyone so quick on her feet, who could call up spells and charms without a second thought. She fought with every ounce of power she had, and woe betide anyone who attempted to go up against her.

 

Still, she couldn’t help feeling that if she were in Fleur’s place, she’d be tired of being treated like a delicate flower. Despite her name, there was nothing flowery or decorative about Fleur. Tonks tried to imagine what Fleur would look like in another life – something fierce and intense, surely. She’d probably wear eyeliner and stare down anyone who presumed to look at her the wrong way.

 

Tonks shook her head at herself, trying not to laugh at the image that had popped into her mind. It didn’t suit Fleur at all. On second thought, Fleur’s appearance fit her just fine.

 

She was distracted from her thoughts by Fleur shooting back, “And you? Doesn’t it bother you that people can read every emotion that you have by the colour of your hair?”

 

Not every emotion, Tonks wanted to tell her. Because, somehow, Fleur had managed to miss the fact that Tonks was head over heels for her. She still wasn’t sure whether she should be thankful or disappointed by this.

 

“Not really. It makes being honest a lot easier, and that’s not always a bad thing. Besides, it’s easier than you might think.” Tonks took a bite, chewed, swallowed. “I have control over what I look like. It’s not like I transform into a giant monster of rage every time I get angry, y’know? But I chose to let my hair become part of my expression. It’s helpful.”

 

Fleur seemed to consider this, pausing in the middle of taking a sip of water and setting her glass back down. She met Tonk’s eyes, carefully, and Tonks got the feeling that she meant something more when she spoke.

 

“You’re right.” She said, her head tip to the side and hair falling like a waterfall down her right shoulder. “It would help things, knowing exactly what someone is thinking.”

 

Tonk’s mind was racing, trying to understand exactly what she had said and hoping that she wasn’t reading too much into it. Fleur was still staring at her, something gentle settling into the gaze, and Tonks finally unfroze enough to look away. Within her, something was burning up in her chest, hot and flickering.

 

*

 

Tonk’s hair, when it dried, was more than she could have hoped for. Fleur was the first one to draw her attention to it, patting down a couple strands that were sticking up at the back of her head and drawing back to look at it with satisfaction.

 

“Beautiful.”

 

It was the only thing she said, and Tonks reminded herself that she was just talking about the colour and not her. She avoided Fleur’s eye on the pretext of going to look in the bathroom mirror, and caught herself against the edge of the bathroom sink, her breath catching in her throat as Fleur’s voice echoed through her head.

 

This crush was going to be the death of her. She just knew it.

 

When she finally pulled herself together enough to actually look at herself in the mirror, she stared at her reflection for a couple minutes. It was still odd to see herself without any changes. It was hard, sometimes, to try and remember what she really looked like – she never was entirely sure whether she had accidentally made her hair a little straighter, or if her hands were a little slimmer than they had been before.

 

When she finished, and was feeling more composed, she stepped out of the bathroom door to find that Fleur hadn’t moved an inch. At Tonk’s appearance, she looked up, staring intently at her.

 

Tonks took half a step forward before stopping in her tracks. The hallway was smaller than she had realized, and she was suddenly all too aware of how easy it would be to close the distance between them completely.

 

“Fleur?”

 

“I’m sorry,” said Fleur abruptly, finally looking away, “If I made you uncomfortable, before. I…”

 

Tonks frowned, confused by this turn. She had no idea what Fleur was talking about, but whatever it was had clearly started to weigh down on her mind. When she cocked her head, Fleur tried to elaborate.

 

“When I called you beautiful. You didn’t seem to like it, and I apologize if my feelings bother you. I just…” She sighed, apparently searching for words. “I want to see you happy, Tonks. If you would rather have me go away, I will, I’m sure that the Order will find me somewhere else to stay if I really do make you that uncomfortable.”

 

Tonks was still stuck on _my feelings_. When she spoke, her voice was strangled. “You were calling _me_ beautiful?”

 

“Of course,” said Fleur, her eyebrows drawing together, as if it were that simple. “Of course I was, you must how I fe–”

 

“Don’t.” Tonks said, and Fleur halted in the middle of her sentence. She looked at Tonks apprehensively and then seemed to relent, her posture shrinking as she toed at the ground. A couple days before, Tonks would have been prepared to interpret this as disinterest, but not anymore. Gears were turning in her head as she mentally rewrote thousands of interactions between them, finding that they made more sense in this light, and when she looked up her heart leaped to her throat.

 

Fleur made a move as though she was going to disappear down the hall and into her room, but Tonks was moving, too, pressing closer until Fleur had no choice but to tip her head back up and meet her gaze.

 

“Me, too,” she said, knowing that she was breathless but not caring, _hoping that Fleur would understand_ – “Fleur…”

 

They were face to face.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Tonks continued, and Fleur moved forward wordlessly, her nose brushing against Tonk’s cheek, and then her face tilted closer and their lips met.

 

Tonks hadn’t had time to shut her mouth properly so the kiss was open-mouthed from the start, Fleur’s bottom lip messily catching between hers and then they were moving together, and this was _wonderful_ , really, better than anything she could have imagined. For a moment, Fleur’s teeth drag across Tonk’s lip and the feeling makes Tonks reach out to grip Fleur, her hands settling firmly on her hips and her fingertips digging in lightly.

 

This makes Fleur smile and somehow manage to move closer, her arm reaching around Tonk’s body until it’s enough to pull her in so that their bodies are pressed up against each other, Tonk’s leg nudging between Fleur’s thighs.

 

When Fleur pulled back, a couple minutes later, it was just to grab hold of Tonk’s hand and drag her down the hallway to her room, cheeks flushed and a smile on her face.

 

*

 

Fleur had a mole on her stomach, just to the upper right of her belly-button. Tonks didn’t know why this was so striking, but it was, and she found herself unable to look away for a couple of seconds. She brushed her thumb over it, and Fleur shivered slightly, reaching out to wrap an arm around Tonks as goosebumps erupted on her skin.

 

“That tickles.”

 

“Does it?” Tonks grinned, half-formed plans to make use of this knowledge already springing up in her head. Fleur seemed to anticipate this, and easily distracted her with another kiss.

 

Needless to say, it worked.

 

“Hey,” Tonks murmured, a couple minutes later. She had repositioned herself so that her head was lying on Fleur’s lap, and Fleur was playing with her hair absently. When Fleur hummed in acknowledgement, Tonks continued, “Does having a French girlfriend mean that I’m going to get cute French pet names?”

 

If she hadn’t been staring up at Fleur, she might have missed the blush that dusted over her cheeks. “That depends. Do you have a French girlfriend?”

 

“I’d like to.”

 

“Then you do.” They grinned at each other for a moment, a giddiness in both their features that wasn’t likely to go away anytime soon. Tonks reached for Fleur’s hand and squeezed it before bringing it up to her lips to brush a kiss against the knuckles.

 

A couple moments later, Fleur resumed stroking Tonk’s hair. “You don’t just like me for my language, I hope.”

 

Tonks almost laughed, but instead she shook her head and sat up to hook her arms around Fleur’s neck. There were so many reasons that she had fallen for Fleur, and the idea that it could be pinpointed to one thing was ridiculous. In any case, Fleur’s native tongue was nothing to the litany of other characteristics that had drawn Tonks to her in the first place. “No, not just for that.”

 

“Or the fact that I’m veela?” Fleur’s voice had lost some of its humour, and she was looking at Tonks seriously.

 

Sensing that this was important, Tonks swallowed and put her hand up to cup Fleur’s jaw. “No. You’re – Fleur, you’re amazing. Yeah, you’re sort of intimidatingly gorgeous, but you’re also smart and fucking dangerous when you want to be. You don’t accept anything at face value. You know what you want, and I can only imagine how hard you have worked to get to this point. To be drawn out of the Goblet of Fire, to join a resistance group against Voldemort in another country – you are astonishing. I want to know everything about you.”

 

Fleur was practically glowing.

 

“Besides,” Tonks continued, “You don’t have your veela powers now, do you? So you’re going to have to accept that I like you for everything you are, even without them.”

 

“Okay.” Fleur said softly. She batted Tonk’s hand away, slightly embarrassed, and Tonks knew that she had said the right thing.

 

“What about you?” Tonks said, teasing. “How do I know you don’t only like me for the fact that I could transform myself into a sex goddess, if I wanted to?”

 

Fleur looked up sharply. “I don’t. Tonks –”

 

Tonks raised a hand to stop her. “I know. I know, Fleur.”

 

Fleur studied her, and apparently came to the conclusion that she was, in fact, joking, because she relaxed enough to slide down into the bed and curl up to Tonk’s side. It’s comfortable, and warm, and Tonks took a moment to take in the fact that this is hers, now. And she was not going to let it be torn away from her.

 

She was half asleep when she heard Fleur whisper, “You’re beautiful no matter what you look like, _mon chou._ ”

 

Tonks made a mental note to ask what that particular phrase meant, but all she had the energy for was to shuffle a little closer and hope that Fleur could see her smile in the darkness.

 

*

 

Five days later, their magic returned.

 

It came in bits and pieces, almost undetectable at first. They had stopped bothering to carry their wands with them, but the return of their magic had manifested itself like accidental magic, popping up at the oddest of times. They might not have noticed that Fleur’s coffee stayed hot for a little longer than it usually did, or that a door would crack open slightly when Tonks noted how hot it was inside their room. Even when Tonk’s hair shifted a couple shades, back to the hue of purple that she preferred, Fleur had only stared for a couple seconds before dismissing it.

 

It was only later, when they were curled up in front of the TV together, watching old muggle sitcoms on the small screen, that Tonks finally noticed. Fleur had decided she wanted the blanket from across the room and had reached, out of habit, for her wand, performing a quick _accio_ to bring it towards them.

 

Tonks had already been midway through teasing Fleur for her laziness when the significance hit her. She sat up instantly, turning towards Fleur with excited eyes.

 

“What are you – _oh._ ” Fleur’s mouth was open slightly, and she blinked. “Tonks…”

 

“I _know_.”

 

“Try your abilities,” Fleur said, sounding as though she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

 

Tonks concentrated on her Metamorphmagus abilities, concentrating first on her burn scars and watching the skin appear to heal before her eyes. She gripped Fleur’s hand and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “It’s back. It’s back, Fleur.”

 

And then Fleur had embraced her, the television show forgotten in their happiness. Their arms around each other, Tonks could feel Fleur’s warmth seeping through the fabric of her shirt, and she buried her face into Fleur’s hair. They were healed, they wouldn’t lose their magic, and they wouldn’t have to worry about being defenceless against a vengeful Death Eater. They would protect each other.

 

Tonks held Fleur in her arms and knew that they would be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!


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